


To Bait a Hook

by chroniclackofselfpreservation



Category: Peter Pan & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Wings, Bird/Human Hybrids, Found Family, Gangs, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Rivalry, Sibling Rivalry, Trauma, i'm such a whore for people with wings, past toxic relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27782866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chroniclackofselfpreservation/pseuds/chroniclackofselfpreservation
Summary: On a mission to take down some Pirates, Rufio must make a choice between the home he once had, and the one he's found.
Relationships: Rufio/Hook (Hook is their age in this... don't look at me like that)





	To Bait a Hook

**Author's Note:**

> TW: manipulation, past toxic relationship, fighting/graphic depictions of violence, non-con kissing
> 
> (I've combined the Lost Boys from both the classic Peter Pan and Hook (1991) because I love all of their names from both, hope it's not too confusing.)

“You know, just because my name’s No Nap, doesn’t mean I don’t _actually_ need to sleep,” No Nap complained under his breath through the communications device in his ear. “Besides, it’s cold out here.”

“Whatever, dude,” Don’t Ask yawned, the thick, knotted scar running across his nose and down his cheek pulling tight. A shiver ran down his wings as he stretched, ruffling the white and black speckled feathers. He reclined in his swivel chair. “You’re supposed to be watching for Pirates, remember?” 

“Easy for you to say,” No Nap mumbled. “You’re sitting in a warm van, while I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours.”

“We would have known exactly when they’d show up if _someone_ had done their job right,” Don’t Ask said pointedly, glaring across the van at Thud Butt. 

The thick-boned Lost Boy looked at the ground. “I said I was sorry.” 

Despite his rock-solid torso, chestnut wings so big they barely fit in the van, and hands bigger than Don’t Ask’s entire face, Thud Butt was gentle… and kind of a doormat. At least he didn’t have any reservations about pounding Pirates’ faces in.

“My wings are going numb,” No Nap whined, the bars of the audio feed on the computer jumping up and down to match his voice. 

“Tell him to stop his bellyaching, or I’ll give him something to complain about,” Rufio growled from where he lay behind the front seats of the van, arm draped over his eyes. He was still nursing a hangover from getting wasted in the middle of the day, his white-tipped magpie wings shoved up between his back and the seats. 

“Rufio said—”

“Don’t worry, I heard him,” said No Nap, going silent. 

Everything was quiet in the van for a long moment—nothing but the whirring of the computers and Rufio’s short puffs of breath. “Pan’s gonna be pissed you were drinking,” Don’t Ask muttered. 

“Shut up.”

A new audio feed popped up on Don’t Ask’s monitor. “Hey, is this thing working?”

“Hear you loud and clear, Tink.”

She sighed. “I’m in position with eyes on the warehouse. How long am I supposed to be up in this tree, again?”

“Pirates. Down the west side,” No Nap reported suddenly, cutting Tink off. “Where are Too Small and Latchboy?”

Don’t Ask sat up in his chair, searching the many screens. “Last I heard, they were still trying to find a way into the warehouse.” 

“Well, they’re gonna have company real soon.”

Rufio dragged himself to his feet. “How many?”

Don’t Ask repeated, “How—”

 _“I heard him,_ ” No Nap snapped. “I can’t tell. Maybe six? It’s too dark.”

“Ace, Pockets, see anything on aerial?” Don’t Ask said, clicking through the various security camera feeds he’d tapped into. He couldn’t see the Pirates yet. 

“West side? Yeah, can see them. Looks more like seven or eight, if you ask me,” Ace replied.

“I’m on the opposite end,” said Pockets. “Want me to loop around?”

Rufio leaned down over the keyboard, grabbing the mic. “Don’t let them see you. Remember, we’re only going in once they’re all inside.” 

“Obviously.”

Don’t Ask’s wings flared, and he shoved Rufio back. “Don’t touch my stuff.” 

“What’re you gonna do about it?”

“Just do your job, and I’ll do mine,” he spat. 

Thud Butt shifted uncomfortably. “Guys, don’t fight.” 

“He started it!” 

“I’ve told you not to touch my stuff a million times. Maybe if you weren’t drunk all the time, you’d remember!”

“You wanna go, scar-face? Let’s see how well you fly after I stuff my pillow with your feathers.” 

“Ladies, please,” a cool voice scolded over the comms, and they both froze. “You’re both beautiful. Now, can we focus on the task at hand, please? Unless you _want_ to explain to Wendy how you botched an entire operation because you were too busy having pissing contests with each other. In that case, be my guest.”

Rufio shoved away from Don’t Ask and stalked out of the van, his wings tense. “Whatever. I’ll be in position.” 

“Don’t forget your comm,” Don’t Ask snarled, chucking it at his head. Rufio caught it and exited the vehicle with a derisive snort. 

_It_ is _cold out here,_ Rufio noted as he slammed the van doors closed behind him. He felt a little bad about snapping at Don’t Ask, but he’d pluck his own primaries before admitting something like that. His head pounded, but he could still fight. If anything, it just put him in a Pirate-punching mood. 

They’d parked the van on the south side of the warehouse, so Rufio should be able to avoid the approaching Pirates if he was careful. According to the plan, Too Small and Latchboy were supposed to leave the nearest door unlocked so he could get inside and prepare to meet with the Pirates under the pretense of him defecting from the Lost Boys. 

Rufio would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt that Pan had immediately suggested that he be the traitor, but he’d _also_ be lying if he said it didn’t make sense. Everyone knew he had beef with almost every Lost Boy, most of all Pan. If the Pirates were going to believe that anyone was willing to step behind Wendy’s back and play double-agent, it was him. 

Rufio gripped the door handle and was about to pull the door open when it swung toward him without warning. Hands shot out of the darkness and grabbed him. 

“What the— _hey!”_ he yelped, twisting away. A hand grabbed his ankle, yanking his feet out from under him. Rufio’s shoulder slammed into the ground as he fell. He grimaced and latched onto the open doorframe. 

“Grab ‘im!”

“What’s taking so long?”

“I’m trying!”

Rufio kicked, heaving himself a few more inches out the door only to be dragged back. 

“No!” he growled, scrabbling for some kind of hold. A fist tangled in his hair, tugging hard. Another clamped over his mouth, pulling his head back. Someone ripped at his feathers, and his eyes smarted with tears of pain. Rufio’s grip on the doorframe slipped, and the door slammed shut behind him, plunging the world into darkness. 

He thrashed and swung his fists wildly, occasionally making contact with a shoulder, a leg, a cheek, but it was too dark. He couldn’t see and there had to be at least four of them. 

_Pirates? How’d they slip inside without us noticing?_ Rufio’s frantic mind wondered. An old, untrusting part of him figured someone had set them up. Maybe this was Pan’s way of finally getting rid of the thorn in his side. 

A fist met his gut, and all the air left his lungs. His wings were pinned beneath him as several steel-toed shoes struck his body. He curled in on himself, trying to protect his head. 

“Rufio? What’s going on? What happened?” Don’t Ask’s voice said inside his ear. 

“That’s enough,” a low voice said from a few feet away, and the kicking ceased. “We need him coherent.” 

Rufio spat blood and rose up on an elbow, grinning through red teeth. “Nice to see you too, Hook.” _Play it cool._ _Don’t give anything_ _away._

The light of a streetlamp shone through a high window and illuminated the tall man’s face and the tops of his oily black wings. His lips ticked up into a smirk, the smile pulling on the angry scar curving from his left nostril, around his mouth, and up under his chin. As many scars as the Pirates had given him, Rufio never forgot the day he’d given Hook his namesake. It was the one thing that reminded him he wasn’t a complete failure all the time. 

The Pirates hoisted him to his feet and pushed him forward into their leader. Hook wrapped his fist in Rufio’s shirtfront and pulled him close, pressing a searing kiss to his lips. Rufio started, but wasn’t surprised. 

Alongside being the rival gang’s leader, Hook was also his ex. 

Rufio squirmed, trying to pull away. Horrid memories threatened to crop up in his mind as Hook’s hand ran across the small of his back, but the bruises he’d just received kept them at bay. 

Hook released him, their lips smacking. He grinned, licking Rufio’s blood from his mouth. 

“You’re psychotic,” Rufio spat, hoping he was hiding the tremors in his hands. _You’re going to be fine. Everyone’s outside. They’ll come for you. Don’t worry._

“Perhaps, but you love it,” Hook sneered, pressing a hand against Rufio’s chest and thrusting him back into his subordinate’s arms. Hook turned and strode down the hall, motioning for them to follow with a flick of his hand. 

“Rufio, there are Pirates inside. Be careful,” Don’t Ask hissed in his ear, and he had to fight down a laugh. 

_Yep. Pretty sure I’ve got_ _that_ _one figured out._

They continued through the narrow metal stairways and slipped between rows of pipes and boilers, eventually reaching a spacious factory floor littered with abandoned industrial machines. 

“So!” Hook called, letting his voice echo around the empty building. He spread his arms and turned to face him. “You’ve finally come crawling back to me, have you?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. It was a choice between you and Pan, and I happen to hate the other guy more,” Rufio lied. He couldn’t act too repentant. Hook knew him too well for that. Just behind Hook’s head, Rufio could see Too Small scrambling across the rafters nearly fifty feet above the ground. Relief stuttered through him, and he hoped it didn’t show on his face. _They haven’t abandoned me._

“I’ve been thinking, Rufie,” Hook mused, pacing back and forth in front of him. “I don’t think I believe you.” 

Rufio’s blood ran cold. “What do you mean? Pan’s out for my head now that I’ve left! What more proof do you need?”

Hook nodded to Smee, a squat, vicious man. “Go get the kid.”

“What have you done?” Rufio growled. 

“Oh, nothing much. As I’m sure you know, one of my little brother’s tactics is recruiting young children and teenagers to his ranks. I guess it’s supposed to elicit some kind of sympathy from other gangs and keep them from killing his members, or something like that,” he explained. 

Rufio grit his teeth. 

That wasn’t it at all. Pan took kids from homes they would have died in otherwise and gave them a new family. A new purpose. Sure, he was an arrogant jerk, but he was a kind-hearted, arrogant jerk. He’d given Rufio a chance, for crying out loud. 

“Needless to say, I can’t have any of my crew being swayed by the fact that they're fighting a bunch of children,” he sighed, pulling a jagged knife from his belt. “Now, I know that Pan and his lackeys are all waiting outside to rush in and teach me a lesson, or whatever, but it seems while you guys were all out playing stake-out for the past few hours, Smee found his way into one of your little hidey-holes.” 

Rufio’s heart skipped a beat. Smee returned dragging Slightly alongside him, their fox-eared beanie still sitting lopsided on their head, snowy wings clamped tight against their back. They were barely twelve, one of the newest kids Pan had taken in, and obviously struggling not to burst into tears. 

“Slightly,” he breathed, relieved that they seemed, for the most part, unharmed. Slightly gave him a tight-lipped smile and a thumbs up. Rufio rounded on Hook, pulling again against his restrainers. “Leave them alone! They have nothing to do with this!”

Hook grabbed Rufio’s face. “You didn’t let me finish,” he snarled. 

Rufio fought down the spike of fear that coursed through him, shutting his mouth.

“I know that Pan’s using you to get to me,” he crooned, his grip softening ever so slightly. “And though you stabbed me in the back, and betrayed the entire gang, and gave me this lovely scar… there may still be hope for you. You could return to my side, you know.”

“You’re insane.”

Hook smiled. “Aren’t you tired of fighting everyone all the time? Must be exhausting.” He stroked his cheek so gently, so softly, Rufio could almost imagine those same hands hadn’t hurt him. “Come back to me. Say you’re sorry, and all will be forgiven. We can pretend like nothing ever happened.”

A shudder passed through his entire body, and Rufio closed his eyes. It really would be that easy. Two words. _I’m sorry._ Just like that, he could slip back into his old life like a pair of shoes. They might be uncomfortable, but at least they were broken in. He knew how they moved, how to maneuver in them. He didn’t have to worry about every little thing he said or did, for fear that they’d break apart. He already knew where he stood—what he could or couldn’t say. 

Would Pan really be all that surprised if he did?

Hook’s lips brushed Rufio’s jaw, and another shiver passed through him. It hurt here, but it was familiar. He could deal with a little pain, couldn’t he?

“Don’t listen to him!” Slightly shouted. Smee backhanded them across the face, sending them to the floor. 

Rufio tensed, coming back to himself. 

“Pity,” Hook tutted, patting him roughly on the cheek and stepping back. “If you won’t be my man, I guess you’ll make a good pet.” He motioned to his men. “Chain him up. Kill the kid.”

“No!” Rufio cried. One of the Pirates struck him in the head, and he slumped to his knees, dazed. 

_Where is everyone else? Why aren’t they attacking?_

Smee took out a pistol and pointed it at Slightly. 

Rufio looked to Hook desperately. “Please, Hook. Don’t do this. _Please,_ I’ll do anything! Just—”

A shot rang through the warehouse. 

The pistol flew out of Smee’s hand with a sharp _clang_. Not a second later, one Pirate holding Rufio dropped to the floor—a ricocheted bullet lodged between his eyes. Hook whirled, searching for the source. 

“I expect cinnamon rolls as compensation for saving your life,” Tink said through the comms.

A strangled laugh of surprise bubbled out of Rufio’s throat. He wrenched free from his remaining captor and punched him so hard in the jaw he went straight down. 

“Tink, if we get out of this alive,” he said, “I’ll make you all the cinnamon rolls you want.”

Hook met Rufio’s eye, then glanced at Slightly, who was still on the ground in shock. 

“Run!” Rufio hissed. They scrambled to their feet, wings flapping frantically. _“Run!”_

Hook dashed after them, but Rufio managed to get his arms around Hook’s waist and drag him to the floor. Rufio’s elbow struck the cement and his entire forearm went numb. Hook’s inky black wings slapped him as they wrestled. Rufio pushed away the memories the familiar scent brought up, grabbing .

Hook was on top of him in an instant, striking him again, and again. Rufio tried in vain to guard his face with his arms. 

_At least_ _Slightly_ _got away,_ he thought resolutely, spitting blood. His head span as it cracked back against the ground. His ears rang. Hook secured both hands around his throat. 

“You deserve to die,” was all he hissed. Through his steadily blurring vision, Rufio saw two enormous black wings descend behind Hook. _They look so alike, even now,_ his fuzzy mind mused. 

The hammer of a gun clicked into place. 

“I hate to be the contrarian, brother,” Pan lilted, placing the barrel against the base of Hook’s skull, “but I have to disagree. Let him go.”

The hands around Rufio’s neck retracted, and he gulped breaths, retching and coughing. He scrambled out from beneath Hook. 

“You won’t kill me,” Hook laughed. 

“No. Mother would never allow it.” Pan lowered the gun about a foot. “But I’d love you see you with a limp. How about I let you choose? Left or right cheek?”

Hook paled. 

Pan furtively scanned Rufio for major injuries. “You good?”

Rufio sat back against a boiler, still not quite able to stand. His head swam, and he probably had a concussion. “Gimme a minute and I’ll get back to you,” he muttered, placing his head in his hands. 

Hook’s lips curled. “Worthless piece of—”

Pan pulled the trigger, and Hook screamed. Rufio flinched, but only barely. He could feel his mind retreating, the smell of gunpowder and the blood running from his nose all too familiar. _Don’t make noise. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Survive._

“You shot me!” Hook bellowed, but it sounded like Rufio was hearing it from underwater. “You actuallyshot me, you idiot!”

“And I’ll do it again if you don’t shut up,” Pan’s muffled voice retorted. Rufio’s hands fell away from his face, and he stared blankly at the floor. What was wrong with him? He should be up helping Pan, or looking for Slightly. He felt all floaty, like he might fall asleep, but not quite. He figured something must be wrong, but for some reason he didn’t care. 

He didn’t feel anything. 

Someone laid a hand on his shoulder and his entire body tensed, ready for whatever came next. 

“You still with me, Rufio?” Pan’s muffled voice carried through the haze in his mind. 

_No? Maybe? I don’t know?_ His body wasn’t responding. He didn't think something like this had happened before… but then again, he tried not to think about the bad times with Hook. It was possible. 

Hook crawled away into the shadows, and Pan watched him go, an unreadable expression on his face. 

Shaking himself back to reality, Pan squeezed Rufio’s shoulder, then put a finger to his ear. “How’re we looking?…. Well, tell Thud Butt to finish up with those Pirates, we’re going to be… Slightly, give Don’t Ask the mic back. We can’t stop at McDonalds, Wendy’s going to—” Pan cut off, and Rufio could hear Slightly’s voice plead over the comms. 

Relief flooded through him. Slightly was okay. 

Pan sighed. “Alright, just get me a Big Mac with no cheese… What’re you talking about, it’s a perfectly normal thing to order, besides—did you just _disconnect me?_ ” he cried indignantly, pulling the earpiece out and holding it between his fingers. He laughed, shaking his head. “I can’t believe that kid sometimes.”

“I’m sorry,” Rufio finally managed, though it was so soft he wasn’t sure Pan even heard.

“Nonsense. You played your part perfectly,” Pan said, shoving the earpiece into his pocket. “Up we go,” he grunted, pulling Rufio to his feet. 

He stumbled a bit before regaining balance. “But the Pirates found the hideout. They almost killed Slightly.”

Pan shook his head, starting toward the exit. “All a part of the plan. We staged the kid at the old safe house. They don’t know jack.” 

Rufio followed. “But Slightly’s only—”

“They wanted to help out,” Pan shrugged, pushing the door open for him, “and they would have snuck over here anyway if I’d said no, and _that’s_ a far more dangerous situation to be in. Can you fly?”

Rufio stepped out into the chill air and stretched his magpie wings. He was still sore from the initial beating and the fight with Hook, but his wings were still operational. “I should be fine.” 

“Good.” Pan said with a smile, flaring his impressive wingspan. “See you at home.”

He took off, Rufio’s hair pressed flat against his forehead from the force of the wind. 

A smile played at his lips. 

_Home._

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a one shot for now, but idk, I might come back to it later...


End file.
